


Christmas Miracle

by iloveitblue



Series: 12 Days of Christmas [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, M/M, Reunion Fic, prephlint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 19:22:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2784803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveitblue/pseuds/iloveitblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where there is an abundance of Christmas movies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Miracle

Clint liked watching Christmas movies.

In Christmas movies you see families getting together, hope, love, snow-y reunions, miracles. Clint probably loved that the most. He’s never been one to believe in miracles especially since his life has been barren of said miracles. 

So every Christmas, Clint took on the tradition of watching Christmas movies. If he can’t have those kinds of miracles for himself, he might as well have fun watching others have it. 

When Phil found out about this tradition, he asked if he could join him. Clint readily agreed, not because it was a superior asking but because it was Phil. Phil  ~~was~~  is Clint’s friend - and if they happened to fall asleep on the couch, quietly resting their heads against each other, well, Clint wasn’t going to complain.

Then Natasha came, and two became three. It was starting to look more and more like the family Clint didn’t know he wanted. Every Christmas, they’d gather around the TV, with food, a few bottles of beer on hand - sometimes Natasha brought vodka with her - and Christmas movies to last them the whole night and day. 

It was a happy tradition that Clint would have traded anything to keep.

But then, New York happened.

Phil is dead and he’s alone on Christmas eve. He tried to watch the Christmas movies all on his own, ignoring Natasha’s calls and texts of  _Where are you?, Are we still on for tonight?, I can bring pizza from Luigi’s., I know its your favorite., Clint., Clint please., Just text me back., At least let me know you’re okay. -_ and for the most part, he was okay. He just didn’t feel like talking to anybody. He would drink himself ‘til he couldn’t see straight, but that didn’t seem like a good idea either.

So he stayed at his place, not the Avengers tower, - Clint wanted to laugh at that, Him? a superhero? that’s gotta be a joke, right? - not even the SHIELD bunker. He stayed at his old place. The too-cold apartment that they used to huddle in together on Christmas day to watch stupid Christmas movies with stupidly happy people who probably aren’t even aware of reality. God, he was turning into the Grinch.

He was halfway through Arthur Christmas - that movie about that guy Arthur who didn’t want to be Santa, but wanted to make every child happy - when a loud, obnoxious knocking, that could only be Natasha’s, made him jump from his skin. 

Clint turned to the door, “Go away! There’s no one home!” He called out just as Arthur climbed Evie, clutching the wrapped bicycle in both hands.

The rapping continued until Clint had to sigh and get the door. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see that Natasha wasn’t alone. “I can’t believe you started without me.” Natasha said, with as much pout as she allowed herself. “They followed me here. Couldn’t shake them off.” Lie. They both knew it was, but the rest of the Avengers were smiling at him, Thor was waving. 

Clint chuckled and ducked his head at the scene before him. “Come in.” He said finally, and they all made themselves comfortable in the living room, which was admittedly too small for all of them to fit in without moving a few things around.

A Christmas Carol was playing when Natasha’s phone chimed. She glanced down at it and she smiled, first at the text then at Clint. “Merry Christmas.” She said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Clint smiled back and kissed her forehead. “Merry Christmas to you too, Tasha.” pulling her back in to their position from before - His arm around her shoulders, and her head resting on his chest.

Natasha stood up and pulled Clint with her. “Come on. I got you a gift.” 

Clint frowned. They had agreed, back when they first knew each other, that there would be no gifts. They made special exceptions for Birthdays, but Christmas was an absolute no go. “I thought we said, no gifts?”

"I know, but I saw it, and I had to get it for you." 

"And what, now we have to drive to it?"

Natasha cocked her once, “Just walk. It’s not that far.”

Clint rolled his eyes at her. “Fine.” He got his and Natasha’s coat from the closet and turned to the other Avengers. “You guys not coming?”

"Nah, We’ll just stay here and finish the movie." Steve smiled at him and gave him a wave. 

Clint shrugged and let Natasha lead him.

—-

"Where are we going?" Clint asked again.

"Just down that road." Natasha answered  _again_.

"You said that a lot of roads ago."

"Stop being a baby and just follow me. It’s not that far."

"It is if it’s this fucking cold." He could hear Natasha roll her eyes at him, He smiled. He loved moments like these with Natasha, moments where they could pretend that they’re normal people, not assassins, not spies, not SHIELD agents, not even Avengers. Just Clint and Tasha. _  
_

"This is where I stop." Natasha said, turning back to him with a smile, the puffs of white trailing her every breath. "Your present’s just around the corner."

Clint frowned at her. “Tasha, I swear, if this is a prank I’m going to skin you alive.”

Natasha scoffed. “You can try.” Condescending Russian. She’s lucky Clint loves her.

Clint buried his hands deeper into his pockets, hoping that maybe he could get his fingers unfrozen before whatever Natasha planned was unleashed.

He turned the corner to find the entrance to the small children’s park a few blocks away from his apartment.There was a single streetlight, shining down on the sign that used to bear the park’s name, - Now it was just ‘R’, ‘S’ and ‘ark’ - and a man that stood right underneath the light. 

Clint turned back to see if Natasha was still there, predictably she’s not. He hunched forward and marched on, might as well get this over with, let the poor man go home once this is all over and Natasha has had her fun.

"Excuse me," Clint called his attention.

The man turned, and Clint felt the blood rush out of his face. Phil stood before him. A ghost of his past.

Phil smiled, a little sadly, even for a ghost. “Hi Clint.”

"But you’re- you’re dead." Clint manage to stutter out. "Aren’t you?" 

Phil shrugged. “Tried it, Didn’t stick.”

"Fury said-"

"Fury says a lot of things." Phil ducked his head, "Doesn’t mean you should believe everything."

Clint raised his hand, as if to reach out, he pulled his hand back a couple of times - afraid that this was all an illusion and that if he tried to touch Phil, he’d disappear - before Phil took his hand in his and placed it softly on his cheek. 

Clint heard himself release a shaky breath that was meant to be a laugh. Phil was warm, well, warm by person standing in the freezing winter but warm. He’s solid, and soft, and real. Clint allowed his thumb to run over Phil’s crow’s feet, something he’s wanted to do ever since he first saw Phil smile, and suddenly, it was just too much.

Clint pulled Phil into a hug, embracing the man he thought he’d never get to see again. The man he thought died because of him. The man he loves. 

Clint held him tight, burying his head in the space between Phil’s neck and shoulder, unwilling to let go. He felt Phil’s hand come up his back and hug him back. He felt Phil’s warm breath run across the naked skin of his neck. He felt Phil smile against his skin. 

Clint smiled, as he closed his eyes, feeling happier than he ever did the whole year, and whispered, soft enough so that only the two of them could hear,

"Welcome Back, sir."

**Author's Note:**

> [Here on tumblr.](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/105373383771/hey-could-you-write-a-story-where-clint-finds-out)


End file.
